


a solitary blue

by glass_icarus



Category: Fionavar Tapestry - Kay
Genre: Gen, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-01
Updated: 2008-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-03 22:14:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glass_icarus/pseuds/glass_icarus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sharra grieving, after the war; written for Isagel in the Yuletide 2007 Challenge. [PG]</p>
            </blockquote>





	a solitary blue

She no longer sees falcons in her mind's eye, the blue of the sky- the color of his eyes- an ever-present ache, felt deep in her bones. Her father does not ask her to return to Cathal when he departs in the spring, for which she is grateful: she would rather stay here in Paras Derval, where the memories of gardens are not as sharp.

She feels the absence of Kim Ford greatly, though she tries not to show it. Jaelle has withdrawn tactfully to Ysanne's cottage with the Twiceborn, trying not to rub the salt of her new relationship into Sharra's wounds. She appreciates the kindness, but still feels the loss of their sisterhood. She misses having someone to laugh with, who shares her playful moods, who understands the gulf of sorrow that she cannot cross alone.

The flowers of spring melt away into the rich heat of Brennin's summer, and Diarmuid's man Coll takes her on a short sea-voyage. She sits on the deck, turning her face into the sun, and _misses_ him; but Coll sits by her after he ties the rigging, and she takes comfort in his quiet, unassuming presence. After a while, he begins telling her stories of a young Diar, dressing up as a woman to go swimming with the court ladies, and she tells him about throwing the pitcher of water in his face, and together they laugh, and cry, and laugh.

"Thank you," she whispers, when they return to the dock, and Coll smiles.

"No, thank you."

He comes to the palace more often after that.

In the fall, Tegid of Rhoden returns with Aileron from a journey to Gwen Ystrat, and greets her before the assembled court with a bone-cracking hug. Sharra laughs and returns it, breathless.

"It's good to see you, Princess," he rumbles earnestly.

"And you as well, my Intercedent," she replies, remembering, "and you as well."

That evening, he invites her to a game of ta'bael. She discovers, as her father did before Kevin Laine's spring, that he plays quite well. Unlike Shalhassan, she is not surprised: Diarmuid always did train his men well, if in a strikingly unconventional manner. She learns also, during their idle conversation, that Aileron does not play, and frowns.

"I do not know if he will play now, my lady," Tegid says. "He was too proud, before, and perhaps Diarmuid was too sharp. Perhaps he will, if you ask him."

But Sharra does not know if she is ready to ask, and so she smiles graciously and says nothing.

Winter comes, and with it, Na-Brendel of the Kestrel Mark. His voice rings out at the end of the Midwinter Feast, the notes of Ra-Termaine's Lament for the Lost shining pure and true in the awed silence of the Great Hall. Sharra, sitting at Aileron's left hand, notes a subtle sheen in the king's eyes that matches her own.

"Ra-Tenniel invites you to Daniloth, High King," Brendel tells them, after, "and you, Princess, should you desire to leave the winter snows for a time. It would be good to have a gathering of friends, now that the war is over."

"It would," Aileron replies, voice less abrasive than it once was.

"It would," she echoes, before he can ask. "Perhaps at a later time, we will join you."

"Ra-Tenniel will be glad," Brendel murmurs. "It is a good place for healing."

Aileron inclines his head in acknowledgement as the lios withdraws, but not before Sharra glimpses the expression on his face. Something stirs in her heart, a measure of compassion for this harsh, driven brother, and for a moment she forgets her hesitation.

"Would you care for a game of ta'bael, Your Majesty?"

Aileron's head snaps up sharply, and he stares at her, eyes dark and unreadable. She does not look away.

"Yes, Princess," he says slowly. "I think I would."

For the first time, they share a genuine smile.


End file.
